Kidnapped
by We Are The Stuff Of Legends
Summary: An old enemy returns and Fi's kidnapped! It's up to Michael and Sam to find their favorite Irish woman before her time runs out; literally. AU after 5x09 Eye to Eye. Rated M for mature themes. Mike/Fi (ABANDONED)
1. Prologue

**Hey guys! So uh...here's the new story I promised but what to say? Um...well, this is going to be a pretty bloody story, with a lot of mature themes. There's going to be a lot of "domestic" violence, I suppose, and uh...yea, I guess that's it. **

**This is going to be a Mike/Fi story because people seriously must know that they are the ULTIMATE couple. Anyway, this is AU after 5x09, Eye to Eye. Can I just say that I absolutely loved the little Mike and Fiona subplot? Because that seriously made me laugh; Michael not making reservations, them meeting at the bar? Oooh gosh, this is seriously going to brew some trouble on the actual show. Anyway, major spoiler for Eye to Eye and definitely lots of badass Michael, vulnerable Fi, emotional Sam, and Jesse- same old Jesse. **

**Disclaimer (thought I should get it out of the way since I won't be writing it every chapter): I don't own any of the characters, but I do own the ideas of the kidnapping and such. All of the characters must (unfortunately) be credited to the amazing Matt Nixx; Mr. Nixx, without you, I don't think any of us would have survived the summer. **

**Now enough of my insistent rambling and let's get this new story on the road!**

**~Deepika**

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><p>Prologue-<p>

There was blood spattered all over the floor; a sign of a struggle. A small figure lay in a pool of crimson liquid, the stench still very much there. The figure's body twitched a bit and struggled to move. A man came in, a dastardly smile on his face, and his eyes full of satisfaction. He walked over to his prisoner and smiled as she twitched once more. It was almost as if she could feel his presence. It took two strides to get to her and when he reached his destination, he grabbed her by her matted hair that was half matted to her neck, half tied up when be first caught her in the docks of Miami.

She had put up quite a fight, he would admit that. But her stupid American boyfriend and ex-SEAL friend weren't there either, making his job a whole lot easier. He had ended up having to corner her into a boat and had shot her in the leg with a bean bag round, causing her to buckle over and admit defeat. She was currently unconscious, since he bad not fed her anything since her arrival. He knew that he would have to leave Miami to Ireland soon, or else he would have a tough time with the Westen boy and little posse of feds. His precious Fiona would be auctioned off and Thomas O'Neal would finally be a national hero.

O'Neal checked the security cameras even though he had checked them a few minutes ago; one could never be too safe, especially when capturing _the_ Michael Westen's girlfriend. He sighed as he saw that no one had made it past his security. Soon, they would be shipped off to Ireland, only this time, he had a secret weapon that no one knew of. A secret weapon so great, that not even the feds could hurt him. O'Neal noticed Fiona twitching and sighed in frustration. That girl would just not give up. Grabbing his syringe for the fourth time that day, he injected the liquid and the fiery Irish woman and she lay silent once more, though her eyebrows were creased and furrowed and her lips were pulled into a tight line.

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><p>Michael locked the doors of the Charger as he walked up the metal stairs of his loft. He had just gotten back from the warehouse, that was now burned, that had previously housed Lucien, the expert bomb-maker and ex-soldier. Sam had left to go deal with his lady-friend Elsa, so he was left alone to do anything. Memories of the bar with Dan and Fiona still played through his mind, with Fiona sighing, saying that she knew who he was, and leaving. Anxious to see her and talk to her about it, Michael rushed up the last few steps and opened up the door to his loft. To the burned spy's great confusion, the lights were off and no one seemed to be here. He scanned the area, and listened closely to the shower to hear if she was there, but to no avail.<p>

Michael was now getting a bit worried. It was getting late, and Fi hadn't said anything about a job, since they had just finished Jesse's homeland security job a mere few hours ago. He called Fiona's cell phone, hoping that she was just caught up on some gun run and that something horrible didn't happen to her. Cursing under his breath as it automatically went to voicemail, he hung up and redialed it at least twenty more times. Finally accepting that she wouldn't pick up, Michael immediately called Sam, with whom he had just seen a few hours ago. Sam picked up on the second ring.

"Mikey, what's up?" Sam's gruff voice entered his ear. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down and try to ease the panic that was rising in his chest.

"Sam, have you seen Fi?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded calm. Although, knowing Sam, he could pick up any hesitation and/or panic in his voice. Sam negatively responded.

"No, why? Is she not there?" Sam asked, already getting a horrible feeling in his guts. If Fi wasn't there, and she wasn't on a gun run or any other job... The ex-navy SEAL quickly shook his head, trying to rid his brain of all horrible thoughts. "You think something bad happened to her?" Sam asked, after a pregnant pause. He could hear Mike trying to calm himself down and try to think like the amazing spy that he was. Even at a time like this, Sam couldn't help but sport an amused smile; Mike would go to any length just to save Fiona, no matter how much he tried to shield his feelings.

"No Sam...I don't know where she is! Can you-" Michael began but Sam cut him off.

"Checking with all my fed buddies and underground buddies; already on it, brother. I don't care what Fi thinks of me, but she's just like a sister to me, and I want her back almost as much as you," Sam huffed, his face feeling a bit hot.

"Thanks Sam," Michael replied and hung up the phone, feeling a pit of worry already forming in his stomach. Something wasn't right, it just wasn't.


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks you so much for the reviews everyone! I honestly wasn't expecting that many reviews because seriously? I didn't think the prologue was that good. I am so so so sorry for the delay, but I was having a bit of trouble writing part of Fiona in O'Neill's custody and I wanted her to have contact with at least someone from Team Westen. So this chapter has a bit of violence, though not as much as later chapters will have. Just warning you guys. Also, just remember that Fiona is pumped with drugs, so things she says or does are because she's either hallucinating or because it's happening in real life. So yea! Also, I have no knowledge of hotwiring things and reception out at sea. Sorry if some of the characters seem OOC, but I just wanted to portray them differently than other people do. **

**Also, if you're looking for some good Burn Notice Mike and Fi stuff, check out:**

_**Coming Apart At The Seams: Amanda Hawthorn  
>Cold As You: Haunted-Eternity<br>Michael's Nightmare: Horselover1111  
>Who You Are: PSU93Girl<strong>_

**So please review; tell me what you liked, didn't like, what you think what will happen, what you think I can change. I'll be happy to hear any feedback. Enough of my insistent rambling, and let's get on with the chapter!**

**~xxRoseOfDeathxx  
><strong>

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><p>Fiona woke up to a world of darkness. Actually, it was more like a shroud of darkness surrounded by hazy fog. She whimpered as she felt blood seep through her shirt. She heard a gunshot and automatically curled into a fetal position, weakly pushing her knees to her chest. A figure fell to the ground and Fiona weakly crawled towards it, tears pooling into her eyes. There, lay Claire, the same Claire who had died the same horrible death more than a decade ago. Adrenaline rushed through her body and a sob ripped through her petite frame. Fiona crawled as quickly as she could towards her baby sister and more sobs racked her body as she found that she was too late.<p>

Fiona just couldn't stop the tears, since she hadn't cried about Claire's death since it had first occurred. She hugged the graying corpse with everything that she had, eventually falling asleep on it. A kick to her ribs woke her up and Fiona gasped, coughing a bit of blood. It sprayed the figure near her and the figure growled, allowing her to immediately deduce that it was a male. The man grabbed her roughly and shoved her into a nearby wall. She felt her head snap to the side and just hang down as she tried to regain strength and catch her breath. The man came closer.

"Aye, looks like ya aren't that strong Ms. Glenanne," the man chortled in a thick Irish brogue and Fiona inwardly shivered, though it had nothing to do with the chilly temperature of the dark warehouse she was currently residing in. "Oi! Look at me while I'm talkin'!" he snapped, and delivered another harsh kick to her side. Fiona groaned weakly, still weak from whatever the bastards that took her had injected her with. Fiona spat blood and looked up at the man, her body weak, but her eyes ignited with the Glenanne fire.

"You..." she gasped, "...will never...get...what...you want." Fiona felt the darkness try to reclaim her, but she pushed it back as far as she could, hoping to get some kind of information from the man that was currently sneering and mocking her words. She seriously wished she had her silver H&K right now, so she could literally blow his brains out, or some C-4 so she could blow and burn the bastards who held her captive.

"Ya think yer a tough bitch, don't ya?" he spat and he drew his face closer to Fiona's and roughly grabbed her shoulder. "Ya better watch yer tongue, lassie, or else O'Neill will have our skins," he whispered in a deadly calm voice. "And he won't be nice like me," he added with a devilish smirk.

"Kerrigan, what ya thinkin' givin' the bitch information? Ya know the first rule of kidnapping is ta not reveal anything about the actual kidnappers," another man smirked, only this new man was more muscular and scary looking.

"Oh come off it, Byrne. O'Neal would have revealed himself at some point," Kerrigan spat at Byrne. Byrne rolled his eyes and as if hearing his name, Thomas O'Neill walked into the room, carrying something behind his back.

"Byrne is right Kerrigan. Although it doesn't really matter, seeing as how she won't be ours for long," O'Neill explained in a calm voice, running his hands over his scraggly chin. "Now, my sweet, sweet, Fiona, I have a little surprise for ya," O'Neill grinned and Fiona tensed, hoping that O'Neill hadn't gotten Michael or Sam. The psychopath revealed a leather whip with a sturdy wooden handle that looked extremely painful.

"What're ya gonna do with that boss?" Kerrigan asked, a bit stupidly; Fiona fought the urge to smirk. Byrne punched his associate and glared at him. "Oh, I get it," he grinned maniacally as O'Neill rolled his eyes.

"Now, if ya act out Fiona, there'll be a harsh price," he grinned and whipped the leather whip millimeters away from her leg, deliberately missing. Fiona cringed, automatically shielding herself, causing O'Neill to lash the whip once more, this time striking her leg. Fiona shrieked as the leather made contact with the sensitive flesh on her leg and O'Neill let out a satisfied bark. "So sweetheart, are you going to cooperate with us now?" he asked, stroking his whip as if it were an evil villain's furry cat. Despite the scalding pain on her leg and the crusted blood all over her body, Fiona bared her teeth and growled.

"You monster, you _BASTARD_!" she shrieked, using all her energy to spit and insult the man in front of her. "You don't care about anything but yourself! You narcissist! You are no patriot of Ireland! You take innocent lives of children!" Fiona was screaming with tears rolling down her face and all of the men stared at her in awe. "And you will never succeed with your plan because Michael Westen and Sam Axe will find a way to save me! So go burn in hell you fucking troll!" she sobbed and O'Neill's eyes flashed dangerously. With a snap of his fingers, Kerrigan and Byrne grabbed two syringes filled with colored liquid drugs and two other men had to come and pin her down so the two Irish men could inject her. Soon, Fiona's mind began to spin and the darkness overtook her, but not before O'Neill's laugh rang through her ears as if a record player was stuck on repeat, playing the discordant and hysterical laughter of the Irish psychopath.

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><p>Michael paced around the loft, sucking yogurt off his spoon. His stomach was churning and he knew the only way to cure it was to throw himself into his work. But somehow, even that thought made his stomach burn and made him want to throw up the five yogurts he had eaten since this morning. It had been three days since Fi had gone missing, and they still had no leads.<p>

Armand was a suspect, but he had an alibi. Fiona's ex-boyfriend claimed that he was on a gun run with some pretty big names in the business, so he couldn't have had anything to do with Fi's kidnapping. Michael sighed, and fell on his bed, bouncing on the mattress. He groaned and rolled over, grabbing the pillow and placing it over his head, screaming into it. After he was done, he inhaled deeply, and was nearly brought to tears as he inhaled the scent of Fiona; vanilla with a hint of gunpowder and C-4.

They had left each other on a fairly sour note, and he was anxious to fix it. The last thing Michael wanted was Fi's last words to him to be "I know who you are Michael." She had sounded so dejected, and so frustrated with him, that it made him question his whole working with the CIA. Of course, he knew that he really didn't want to give it up just yet, but he also knew that if he didn't do something, Fiona would really leave him this time.

Sighing, Michael got up. Moaning and contemplating the past wouldn't help get Fi back. He went to his fridge and got out his yogurt, opening it while trying to figure out a way to contact both Seymour and Barry. Seymour, because he was stalker-like and could probably figure out a way to find Fiona, and Barry because he had the contacts. As he finished devouring the last of his precious yogurt cup, someone knocked on the door. Always assuming the worst, Michael grabbed the nearest gun and cocked it, holding it while unlocking the door. He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw his mother, frowning and looking extremely angry, only the way Mama Westen could look angry.

"Ma..." Michael sighed as she just barged in, her hair spiked up as usual and her cheap red lipstick on as well. "What's wrong? Is there another emergency?" he asked, just hoping that she would tell him that the washer or the fridge was broken and not ask about Fi and her whereabouts. As if his prayers were ignored, Madeline Westen broke out into a mini interrogation.

"Where in the world is Fiona? Why isn't she picking up her phone? Did something happen to her? Is she ok? What about Sam? Are you guys in danger again? Do I have to relocate into a cheap motel again?" With each question, Michael grew more and more frustrated. She asked questions which entered the orbit of the million other questions that revolved around his brain.

"Ma!" Michael yelled, punching the nearby wall in frustration, startling poor Maddie. Michael exhaled loudly, letting his arm go limp and hung his head. "She's gone Ma. Someone's kidnapped her," he croaked out, finally letting his emotions take over. Madeline's startled face morphed into a motherly sympathetic one in an instant, as soon as she saw Michael near tears.

"Oh Michael..." Madeline murmured before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You just do whatever it takes to get her back, ok? I'm going to go and hassle Sam. Just go and find your girlfriend," Madeline called as she made her way down the metal staircase. Michael's call halted her.

"Ma?" he called, his voice low and thick with the oncoming tears. Madeline turned towards her son, beaming a gentle smile in his direction. She cocked her eyebrows questioningly. "Thanks, Ma," Michael continued and Madeline chuckled lowly under her breath. Michael could never get used to anyone helping him or doing him small favors. Oh the joy of being a covert spy.

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><p>Fiona groaned as she awoke once more. Her head was spinning while pounding simultaneously. She looked around and saw that O'Neill and his dastardly crew had left her alone in the warehouse; a grave mistake. Fiona looked around, trying to plan her escape and find some things that would aid her in her mission. She noticed a rusty metal screw and grabbed it before anyone found it. She also noticed a metal rod that had no curtain on it, but the rod that held it was still there. Fiona looked around, for a moment not believing her dumb luck, and took the metal rod and put it up against the wall, to make it look like it was there in the first place.<p>

Satisfied with what she had collected, Fiona slumped against the wall, feeling all the remaining adrenaline and energy leave her and decided to close her eyes for a while. Images of Sam, Michael, Jesse, and even Madeline popped into her head, and she couldn't help but feel guilty for making them worry. Fiona was supposed to be strong, and not be the damsel in distress. She couldn't afford to be vulnerable during her line of work, or at any time for that matter. She had to be strong; strong for Michael, strong for Sam, strong for Madeline. Images of Michael passed through her brain and she clearly remembered the words that had been exchanged during their last conversation. Fiona felt a huge lump in her throat as she tried to recollect herself. She didn't want those to be her last words to Michael, words of disdain. She just couldn't. Finding the strength all of a sudden, she opened her eyes to see one of the lame guards O'Neill had hired and with one quick fluid motion, she struck the man with the metal rod, rendering him unconscious. She also dug through his pockets and found a cell phone, which she slipped into her bra along with the rusty screw.

Noticing that he hadn't locked the door behind him, Fiona slipped out and quickly navigating her way to the outside. Fiona was forced to stop and hide behind the walls of the warehouse as she saw more of O'Neill's goons making daily rounds. She sighed and closed her eyes, muttering a quick prayer in Gaelic before dashing into them. Surprisingly, only a few of them noticed.

"Oi, you; stop there right now!" a man yelled in a thick Irish brogue. "Quick, fire at will!" he bellowed, alerting every guard that was in hearing distance. Cursing to herself, Fiona squinted and made her way to the docks that housed many boats, including the one she had her eyes set out for; a top notch speed boat. The sound of gun shots echoed through the air as she ran across the field and onto the pavement, trying to avoid as many bullets as she could.

"Fiona!" O'Neill roared before whipping out his cell phone. Fiona felt a bullet pierce her leg and she cried out in pain. She grit her teeth to the point where it could have possibly broke, but willed herself to go on. The Irish vixen finally made it to the speed boat where, as she had predicted, the keyhole was empty. Fiona smiled darkly to herself, thanking the heavens for her _great_ luck. "What are ya pansies waitin' for? Get her!" O'Neill cried. Fiona ignored the pain in her leg and the blood gushing out of it and bent down to the key switch and gathered the necessary wires.

"Oh, for the love of-!" Fiona growled, her Irish accent slipping into her angered words. Finally, the motor engine purred to life and Fiona rejoiced, immediately starting it and speeding off into the water where she knew the others couldn't follow her, because this was the only motor boat in the docks. Sighing in relief, Fiona flipped the cell phone and swallowed, hoping that after all of this, she would have some kind of reception. She quickly dialed the familiar number and waited. Her heart was pounding and she tried to apply as much pressure as she could to the wound that was slowly starting to become a problem. After the fourth ring, Michael finally picked up.

"Hello?" he spoke into the phone, his voice guarded and suspicious. Fiona swallowed the lump in her throat again, reveling in the fact that she could hear Michael's voice once more. "Hello?" he called again.

"Michael?" Fiona replied and Michael's breathing hitched Fiona gritted her teeth in pain.

"Fi? Fi, where are you? We'll come and get you?" Michael said, his words coming out in a hurry. Fiona couldn't help the strangled noise that came out of her mouth due to the insistent pain in her leg. "Fiona are you ok?" Michael asked, concern now seeping into his voice.

"Michael, they're coming!" Fiona gasped as she saw O'Neill and his men finally finding means of transportation.

"Who's they Fi? Just tell me!" Michael cried, already fearing for Fiona's life. Fiona whimpered again and Michael could hear the muffled but distinct sound of a gunshot. "Fiona..." Michael whispered and Fiona swallowed loudly.

"Michael, I'm at a warehouse near the Cape Hopes Docks, but they'll probably move me. I have to throw this cell phone away so don't call me back," Fiona rushed her words, hoping that Michael would go into spy mode. "Oh and Michael?" Fiona asked, after a few moments of silence. She noticed that the boat was running out of gas and that the engine was sputtering a bit.

"Yea, Fi?" Michael asked, fearing her words. He wanted to tell her how amazing it was to hear her voice again, how much she meant to him, but he just couldn't. It was as if the words were just stuck in his throat and no matter what he could do, he couldn't get them out. Fiona exhaled shakily into the phone and the unmistakable sound of a motor boat and gunshot were heard, making Michael's heart pick up in speed.

"I love you Michael. Just remember it and never forget it," Fiona said before he heard a strangled cry and the phone disconnected. Michael started to panic and his palms became sweaty.

"Fi, you there? Fi? Fiona, answer me! FI!" Michael bellowed into the phone, tears threatening his eyes. "FIONA!" he gasped as tears started to pour down his eyes. "Fiona..." his voice became quieter as he succumbed to the tears. "Fi..." he whispered, his heart shattering into a million pieces before his brain kicked into action and he called Sam and Jesse, telling him to get armed up to go investigate the Cape Hopes Docks.


	3. Chapter 2

**Ok, so before everyone yells at me, just remember that I'm in my sophomore year of high school and it's as hard as shit. I've already finished 3 chapters of math and it's only the 2nd/3rd week of school. No lie. Plus, I got a bit of writer's block. You guys seriously have no idea how many times I typed a few words of this chapter and then left it and not write it until another few days. Then there was the problem with my computer because my god damn laptop fan was acting up. Curse you HP...anyway, I hope that this chapter satisfies your needs for some Burn Notice.**

**On a completely different note, was I the only one who got goosebumps during the summer finale? And seriously? Anson...that has got to be the worst evil villain name that I have ever heard. Even worse than Tom Stickler or that other dude...or even _Vaughn_. Like seriously? I would be evil if my mother named me any of those names; no lie. Also, I like the idea of showcasing how much Fiona is committed to her relationship with Michael. I mean...blowing up a building? If only a guy could do that to me. And Larry is finally dead! Hallelujah! And that final beach scene seriously got to me...in a good way. **

**Now for chapter thoughts. I wanted to get into Sam's mind in the beginning of the chapter, but then I realized that I wanted some Fiona whumpage and I needed to get the story rolling. I also wanted to showcase how much Sam really does care for Fi. They act like typical brother and sister. I needed Michael to realize who Armand was in relation to Fiona because I plan to tie in the original story plot into this story. But for now, nothing past 2.09 happened so there was no amazing hotel scene about bubble baths or Fiona crying scenes and Michael comforting her. Oh well! As an after thought, I really didn't want to add the ending to the chapter...but I thought it kind of fit in with the mood Michael was already in. I mean, finding out that you just got your girlfriend to do a favor for her ex is one thing, but then learning that _and_ realizing that she is in danger is a serious cardiac arrest.**

**Now enough of my insistent rambling and let's get on with the chapter!**

**~Deepika**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2-<strong>

Sam Axe was a man of many personas. He had played the tough ex-navy SEAL, the worried friend, the worried lover, and the indifferent friend; but never had he played the role of the worried brother. Contrary to common belief, Sam cared a lot for Fiona and he knew the same was vice versa. The two of them had come a long way from being hateful enemies to almost a dysfunctional family type relationship. And it worried Sam that Fiona was missing, and he knew that whatever the reason was, that it could not be good. Chugging down his mojito, Sam sighed and rubbed his temples, willing the worry and stress to go away. Suddenly, the nagging chiming of his phone spiked the headache even further-making Sam even more crankier, if that was even possible. Wrenching the cell phone out of his pocket, Sam flipped it open, a scowl appearing on his face.

"What?" he spat into the phone and then closed it once he realized it was from Michael. "Whoa, whoa, Mikey, slow down brother. Fi what? She what? Well what did she say?" Sam asked, the dreading pit sinking further and further into his stomach. "Oh god...hold on Mike. I'll make a quick call to my fed buddies and then I'll be right over," Sam whispered, bile rising in his throat. Fiona may have been strong, but she wasn't invincible. "Mike? Brother, you still there?" Sam asked, cursing when he realized that Michael had hung up on him.

After making a quick call to his lady friend, Sam searched through his contacts for someone in the FBI. He thought about calling Harrison and Lane, but after pondering for a few moments, he decided to call them and another guy. Sam sighed and rubbed the gray stubbles on his chin in an agitated motion. First things first, call Jesse and make sure he was on board. Then, make sure Mike didn't get any crazy ideas in his head and blow up all of Miami. Groaning to himself, Sam made a beeline for the keys to 'his' car and sped over to the loft. A wave of relief crashed over his whole body when he saw the Charger still there; it meant that there was still time. Sam rushed out of his car, not even bothering to lock the car. He ran up the metal stairs hoping that Mike hadn't already left with Fi's ready supply of C-4 where he could blow up anyone who he thought was suspicious. And knowing Michael's paranoia; that was a lot.

"Mike you idiot, please don't have done anything that stupid," he growled as he wrenched the door open, revealing a pacing Michael. "Mike, brother...geez, don't hang up on me like that!" Sam moaned a bit, heading straight for the fridge and grabbing his favorite beer. Michael rolled his eyes at Sam's worrisome tone.

"Sam, I'm fine. I'm just a bit impatient in finding Fi. You of all people should know that," Michael glared at his older companion, and Sam glanced at him, remembering a mission that had taken place years ago. Michael had been acting as a double spy and was secretly working with Sam while pretending to work for Larry. At first, Sam had thought that Michael would be brought back to the dark side, but it didn't take long for him to see that Michael's time in Ireland had changed him. It wouldn't be until a couple of years later, when they would later work on another mission together in Moscow, that Sam would learn of the main lady in Michael's life. He would learn of how hard it was for Michael to leave Fiona just like that, and to have probably broken her heart while breaking his in the process. Sam would then proceed to meet the Glenanne daughter and stop a gun run while becoming number one on her list of 'people who piss me off and will get blown up'.

"Low blow Mikey, low blow. So, got any leads or plans?" Sam asked and Michael sighed, easing his way into the duct-taped green chair, while smacking his palm to his head and then cradling them in both of his palms, elbows resting on his thighs. Michael looked like he had just gotten all the wind knocked out of him; he was drained and defeated and exhausted, not surprising seeing as how he hadn't slept for the past three days.

"Armand is a plausible lead, though I doubt it's him. I really have no other idea of who would want Fi dead. And it's probably not someone who wants me dead, because they would have called me and threatened me. I've already got Jesse looking to see if there was anyone on homeland security that could pose as a possible threat. I assume you've got the fed buddies looking for a suspicious gang or party?" Michael asked, musing through his thoughts for the umpteenth time. Sam heavily sighed and sank into the bar stool, bringing the beer bottle back to his lips.

"So does Maddie know about Fi being missing?" Sam asked and Michael wearily nodded, as if another ton of weight had been placed on his shoulders, along with the rest of the burden and guilt. Sam sucked his breath in and grimaced, knowing that Michael had probably received an earful.

"Mom sort of understands," Michael vaguely responded as Axe sighed and sat down, both feeling useless and out of options. Michael sighed. "And we still have a huge problem," Michael added, eying Sam. He turned around and looked at Michael, eyebrows raised.

"Bigger than Fi being kidnapped and being subjected to uncertain death and/or torture?" Michael swallowed and turned away, a burning feeling coming to his throat. He cleared it, willing the emotion to go away.

"Ok, slightly smaller, but still pretty big and will most certainly slow us down. We still have to find out who killed Max and framed me while steering Agent Pearce off in the wrong direction," Michael replied, glaring over the counter at nothing. Sam sighed, having just remembered their favorite CIA operative who was inadvertently trying to catch Mike and co.

"Mike, not to be a horrible friend or anything, but can't we just stick to finding Fi first and then fending off Pearce and her creepy yet armed piranhas?" Sam asked, his voice raising an octave and his face expression incredulous. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Sam, I never said that it was the most important. You should know, more than anyone else in this whole damn world, that I want nothing more but to have Fi in my arms again. Don't you see why I'm doing this? You guys are in danger. I wouldn't be able to stay sane if either one of you died because of some enemy _I_ made. You're family...and truth be told, I've never really had a family," Michael growled, though his voice got softer and more vulnerable towards the end. Sam bit his lip and tried to swallow the lump of emotion in his throat. Both of them were tired, emotions were running high, and tempers could easily be ignited, as well as the unwanted emotion of vulnerability and worry along with the feeling that they were useless and couldn't do anything. Sam clenched a fist on his lap and grit his teeth.

"We'll find her Mikey. I promise, brother," Sam said, closing his eyes in frustration and conveniently missed the grateful expression Michael threw at him.

000

Fiona cried out as the leather whip slashed through her skin and onto her stomach. The burning and stinging pain of her skin was something that was unfamiliar, and her body cried out in ways she didn't think was possible. Kerrigan stood in the background, his eyes roaming her body lustfully as Byrne lashed the whip all over her body as if she was some kind of horse and this was her punishment. Cringing as Kerrigan walked forward and stroked her sweat-drenched face, a lustful smile playing on his face. He squeezed her chin tightly before looking at her dead in the eye.

"I s'pose you've learned your lesson?" Kerrigan smiled as his putrid breath caused the Irish woman to scrunch her nose in a feeble attempt to not inhale it.

"I'm being sold...people don't want broken merchandise," Fiona swallowed thickly and Kerrigan glanced over at Byrne, reluctantly noting that she had a point. "Got you there, didn't I?" Fiona smirked triumphantly at her meager victory. Byrne scowled and stepped forward, the whip silently taunting her and causing her fingers to tremble. Byrne brushed the mop of blonde hair out of his face before leaning towards Fiona menacingly.

"We'll find other ways," he smiled brightly, his eyes glinting, sending a shiver of fear down Fiona's spine. She swallowed thickly once more, trying to put on a brave front for monsters in front of her. "Oi, Kerrigan. Bring in plan B," Byrne called to his assistant. Fiona rolled her eyes. "Sweet pea, I wouldn't be rolling me eyes if I were you. In fact, I'd be a quivering down me spine by now."

"Oh shut up, we both know that you aren't half as scary as O'Neill is. And half as smart," Fiona added, smirking brightly at Byrne. He growled as Kerrigan entered the vicinity with a cart full of dangerous looking syringes. Fiona looked away, a pit of dread forming in her stomach. "Now then sweetheart," Byrne began, using O'Neill's annoying nickname for her. "You're in for a treat. For every threat or annoying thing ya say, ya get a nice little dose of our medicine cabinet."

"I'd choose yer words wisely, if I were ya," Kerrigan added, a grin spreading to across his face. Fiona kept her gaze averted as they began to fill the deadly pointy objects up with various liquids. "Now then...let's just give ya a dose to see what's coming." The raven haired man pinned Fiona down in one fluid motion as Byrne injected her with something. Fiona gasped as she felt it enter her bloodstream and make her muscles feel like sandbags.

"What did ya give me?" she slurred, her Irish brogue seeping into her words. Byrne grinned, his eyes gleaming with happiness to see her in such pain. Fiona gasped as black dots appeared in front of her eyes, and she knew that it wouldn't be long until she was out cold. A thought passed her mind, as she noticed Kerrigan's tortured glare and Byrne's plain glare at her. "Why are you doing this?" she moaned. Though there was no answer, Fiona saw how their faces hardened through her pain induced haze. As confusion washed over her, she heard herself croak something and then she fell into darkness.

000

Michael sighed as he watched the silver illumination of the moon make the dimly lit loft sparkle. His eyes wandered to all of Fiona's renovations and felt himself wishing that she was here again, yelling at him to go to bed or to kiss him into oblivion and distract him from all the demons that came with working in the CIA world. His echoing footsteps were yet again another reminder of how empty this place was without her. A picture of the Glenanne family caught his eyes, neatly tucked away in their makeshift closet, away from prying eyes. Michael inhaled sharply, guilt washing over him as he realized that she couldn't even put up a picture of her family to reassure herself because of all his enemies using them as leverage. It was yet again another reason Michael wondered why she stayed with him.

He drove her away with harsh words and he always expected her to come back to him no matter what. He expected her to be there for him even when he wasn't there for her. Forcibly tearing his eyes away from the family portrait, Michael turned around and went back to the bed. He knew he had to get some sleep so he could focus all his efforts on finding Fi. He went over to the bed then at the last moment, changed directions and made his way to the work bench. He bent down to get a box underneath the table and picked up, brushing a bit of accumulating dust off. Michael thumbed through them and finally found the folder of information he was looking for. Heart pounding, he reached for it, and opened it, the picture almost bringing tears to his eyes. There she was, staring at him with bright eyes, undoubtedly looking at something exploding or a certain gun. He was reading through her files for any potential enemies when he came across a particular note in her record of relationships. Specifically, Armand's file. He swallowed thickly, a familiar sense of dread washing over him like an ocean spray. He had sent her to an ex-boyfriend. An _ex-boyfriend_. What the hell was he even thinking? She had looked at him like she was pained and he had ignored her. She was right. He would do whatever he needed to, as long as he got the job done.

Michael felt like he just got the wind knocked out of him. Now he knew why she was so upset, why she was so mad at him. How could have he been so inconsiderate? Here he was, this amazing beautiful woman gazing at him with pure adoration, and all he was doing was breaking it all apart. She had given up so many things for him, Michael suddenly realized. She couldn't see her family; she was cut off from Ireland. She couldn't have a normal life or a family or a child or even a husband; someone could use that as leverage against him or her. She couldn't even have a normal boyfriend; flirting to them was talking about guns. Something romantic was saving each other from deadly explosions. Yet no matter what, Fiona wouldn't leave him. Michael didn't know what, but perhaps there was something about him that kept them together. Perhaps their destinies were tied together like that fortune teller in Belfast told them.

Michael glanced over at Armand's file once more, and then realized that the gun dealer couldn't be the culprit. He was currently living it Chechnya where he had a nice little black market gun dealing business. He had only come to Miami for Fiona. Michael closed his eyes once more as he slammed the file shut and threw it on the floor, an animalistic growl resonating throughout the loft. He panted, his chest heaving up and down from the sudden exertion of energy. Suddenly exhausted, Michael flopped on his back on the bed and slowly closed his eyes, hoping for the best tomorrow. He was just about to fall asleep when the phone rang. At first, Michael thought he could just let the phone ring and perhaps the person would go away.

As if listening to Michael's thoughts and purposely ignoring them, the shrill tone of the cell phone rang through Michael's ear drums. Groaning, Michael slammed a pillow on top of his head, trying to drown the sound out. After a few moments, the burned spy knew that the phone would keep ringing. Grunting, Michael reached over to the night stand and answered his cell phone but not before looking at the caller ID and groaning.

"What? This had better be important, Barry," Michael sighed, yawning. Barry started to babble and talk fast. "Barry, Barry, calm down. Deep breath, then start over and talk _slowly_," Michael said in a slow voice as if talking to a five year old.

"Michael, I found Fiona," Barry replied, his tone grave and serious as Michael's heart started to pound faster and faster before he thought that it would fall out of his body. He swallowed thickly and a small smile began to spread across his face. "Michael, did you hear me?" Barry asked a little louder. Michael shook his head.

"Yea Barry, I'm here," Michael said, his heart soaring just a bit higher than it had been in the past few days. Finally, Michael allowed himself to have at least a little bit of hope. Barry muttered something Michael couldn't hear. "What was that?" Michael asked and Barry gave a loud sigh.

"I said Michael, you're probably not going to like this," Barry said and Michael froze all hope dying away. So much for getting sleep tonight.


End file.
